The boulevard is bustlin'A vast and wrinkled muslinIs pulled over my eyes andI know I don't belongThere is a noise inside of meThat bustles asymmetricallyOh how have I to balanceThose sounds into a song?

The city's an analogyFor things building inside of meThere's chaos in this discord,But still we move alongThe chaos sings of symmetryAnd all her words are poetryThat's the kind of cityWhich I want to belong